Lucie laughed teasingly. She had lain awake a long time the night before, full of trouble and forebodings. She mourned her grandfather sincerely, but she was very young; she had become accustomed to thinking of him as apart from her daily life, therefore she did not miss him as she once would have done. Moreover, the promise of a day of pleasure could but cheer her up, as Victor intended it should do. She ran upstairs, and presently Pom Pom came dashing down in a perfect turmoil of excitement, the more violent when he beheld Victor. “If I were something smaller he would eat me up,” declared Victor, trying to evade Pom Pom’s lavish bestowal of kisses. “Do you then take me for a lump of meat, Pom Pom?” At last the dog’s ecstasies were diminished and Victor gave himself up to planning for the day’s outing. “What do you say to a little trip on the river? We may not find it possible to go very far, but a little way is not out of the question. I have a comrade who lives at Auteuil. I have promised to take word of him to his people. Would this plan be agreeable to you, Lucie, and you, Paulette?” “I should adore it,” declared Lucie. “Isn’t it a delightful idea, Paulette?” In her heart of hearts Paulette was not so sure. She had never in all her life had the experience of a trip on the water, but if Lucie wanted it, be it far from her to object, so she said in the most indifferent way: “It is all one to me. Suit yourselves and I shall be suited.” Down to the river they went to board one of the small steamers plying none too frequently between Charenton and Auteuil. On the way Victor stopped to buy a newspaper and some sweet chocolate, which latter he might not have been able to get but for the fact that he was a _poilu_ to whom nothing was to be denied. He handed it to Lucie, who accepted as gratefully as any girl would who had not tasted chocolate in any form for months. Paulette seated herself gingerly. She was armed with the green umbrella, explaining that no one knew when it might rain. She balanced herself on the seat as if momentarily one might expect to be tipped over in one direction or the other, but she soon became accustomed to the easy motion of the steamboat and entertained herself by looking at the other passengers. There was quite a number of soldiers with their sweethearts, a few country people, a couple of nuns, a priest or two. “At Auteuil we shall take our first meal,” announced Victor. “I suppose you know where to go,” returned Paulette. “Oh, yes,” he answered serenely. “I know; it is one reason why we go. These parents of my comrade, it is they who keep a small inn. I tell myself that it is a good policy to go there for we shall be well treated without doubt.” “Ah-h,” breathed Paulette with satisfaction. “That was a clever idea, monsieur.” “So I told myself. I said I will go there first because Honoré wishes me to; second, because we shall probably fare better there than anywhere else.”